The phrases I've heard tossed around
are things like “culture appropriation” and “gay fetish” to
describe the interest (presumably) heterosexual women have in gay
romance. I've held my tongue when these debates have happened, partly
out of self-interest (as a writer, reputation online is more
important than ever these days) and partly because it's difficult to
weigh in when I see both sides of the issue.
Of course, I don't feel like I
personally fetishize gay sexuality. I like to read and write about
all kinds of things, a great many of them having nothing to do with
sex. But I can imagine how gay men feel when it comes to women
looking at pictures and videos of men together and reading their
comments. To be objectified like that, even if it's not about you,
feels dirty. I've read comments that made me want to distance myself
from the woman who wrote them. I've had women give my books low
ratings because there wasn't sex on every other page, or what sex was
there was tame compared to a lot of other books out there. It's
disheartening to realize there are people who come across like that's
all they're interested in – many of them may not even realize it.
Naturally, this results in men who hate how women are taking up such
a large part of “their” world – to the point of being openly
hostile to readers and writers just for being a part of this group.
Some of them feel any woman who reads or writes gay romance or
erotica is wrong, just because.
I liken the situation to the major
political parties in the US. There are extremes on both sides who
feel strongly about their position and they can be the loudest when
it comes to disagreements. But, as in politics, even people within
the groups sometimes don't agree with how the extremists represent
the whole.
I'm not an innocent when it comes to
this particular issue. I've done and said quite a few things I'm not
proud of and I can't imagine the kind of impression I've left on gay
men I've spoken to, either online or in person. I used to say things
like “that's so gay” because I was young and silly and it never
occurred to me to question why I or others said it or how it may make
someone feel. I'm more aware of how I speak to people now and I've
largely changed the way I think. I'm cognizant of how connected I am
to the world around me and the world I've aligned myself with, not
because I'm a woman most presume to be heterosexual, but because I
sometimes still feel I'm on the outside looking in. I want people to
respect me and my opinions and know when they speak to me I am
genuinely interested in them and not attempting to correlate them
with a gay stereotype in the media. I don't know if thinking this way
now makes me more mature or less self-absorbed. I like to think it
makes me more open to getting to know people, across the board. I
like to think it makes me more attuned to how people respond to me. I
like to think my attitude will allow people (read: gay men) to get to
know me as a person and not assume I'm a hetero woman ogling them as
entertainment.
But I'm just one person. There are
millions of other women out there with their own variation of this
story. I can't speak for any of them.
Where am I going with this?
A little over a year ago, I got an idea
for a story about a woman who gets to experience what it's like to be
a man for a day. Naturally, because of what I write, I thought it
would be fun if she tried to have a sexual experience with another
man. I asked around and the majority of women I spoke to agreed: If
they could do it, a lot of what they'd want to experience would be
sexual, either by themselves or with another person. Once I knew I
was going to write this story, I realized I couldn't do it without
linking it to a larger argument: What would happen if this woman had
a lot of preconceived ideas about gay men that were challenged by her
firsthand experience?
It was difficult writing this story.
There were a few times I flat-out quit because I was putting so much
pressure on myself to get it just right, to prove certain points. I
suppose I was writing it in lieu of responding to all those arguments
I kept seeing online. I pushed myself and finally wrote a story that
explains, in small part, how I think some women feel when they're
reading and writing these stories. This is by no means an excuse for
some comments and behavior. It's just one possible version of reality
for some people wrapped in a story.
Is the main character Jamie really me?
No. Sort of. She's a more extreme, sillier version of the me from
three years ago. I learned a lot of the lessons she has to learn in
the book a long time ago and I'm better for it.
I don't expect people to love this
story. I expect it to get people talking, for better or worse. I'm
still trying to convince myself I'm doing a good thing. It's not a
romance. It's...general fiction/fantasy, for lack of a better
description. I think I'm prepared for the various reactions the story
will get. Maybe.
This is not an easy to read story. It's
social commentary. It's a thinly disguised critique of my social
group, groups we interact with, and a segment of our environment. I
may hurt feelings. I may hurt my chances of selling books in the
future.
I care about those things, but I still
had to tell my story. If you're curious how I did that, click here to
read the beginning and find out where to get a copy.
